


shy

by mopgoro



Series: the porn that will go on my callout post [8]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: At Least A Lot of Blood, Blow Jobs, Body Horror, Dick Skinning, I mean it literally Goro skins Akira's dick, M/M, Masochism probably, Mild Gore, Parasites, Skinning, specifically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26440480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mopgoro/pseuds/mopgoro
Summary: Goro helps Akira remove a parasite.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: the porn that will go on my callout post [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885705
Comments: 11
Kudos: 70





	shy

Once, when Goro was younger and venturing into Mementos for the first few times, a shadow had sprayed him in a fury with a pink goop that turned out to have little teeth and suckers and even tongues, determined to latch onto his skin. By the time he'd pried most of it off, one of them had gotten its tendrils deep into his arm, and he's screamed where nobody could hear him in the Mementos depths at the sensation of the parasite sinking its shallow roots into his very skin itself. He'd pulled and pulled and pried with a knife, cast healing beads, scraped his arm raw against the train tracks, and still it wouldn't come off, until in a panic he'd pulled out his sword and squeezes his teeth shut and carved an outline around the parasite into his own flesh. He'd shoved the claw-fingers of the Black Mask outfit under the skin flaps, working it into the fat as tears dripped down his cheeks, praying that a shadow or, worse, the Reaper didn't come around the corner. He let himself cry. He let himself scream, even. It's not like anyone was there to judge him. Nobody was there to hear him. Nobody _cared_ , even, and wasn't that something—nobody even gave a damn that if he cried and screamed or that his mother was dead and his father wouldn't look at him twice if he didn't kill people for his paychecks and here Goro was, alone in the wretched ruined subconscious of Tokyo digging his claws under his own skin to save his own life, and his tears had run hot and angry on his skin as he'd let Loki crawl their way out of his chest.

"Don't be gentle," he'd gasped, as if Loki ever listened to prayer. _Do it fast. Get it over with._

Loki's long claws pinched around the strip of skin.

 _Don't be kind_ —

Goro realizes he blacked out when he wakes up. The entire strip of skin was missing from his arm, but so was the parasite, starving to death in the open air where Loki still held a chunk of Goro himself, wiggling like a caught fish. And still nobody was there, and nobody cared, and Goro had curled up on his side and wished the world was more fair, that someone else could be there to lick his wounds and crush the healing bead over the bloody gash. But the world wasn't more fair. Goro pulled out the bead, healed himself, picked himself back up, and forgot about the entire thing for years.

*

Halfway through January, after a particularly disastrous Mementos attack that ended with a shadow exploding into living slime all over the team that they had to peel off with their fingers, Akira starts refusing to enter the Metaverse. With anyone else, at least—sometimes, when Goro passes by Leblanc after school hoping for a team meeting, he'll see Akira disappearing into the Mementos depths, alone.

Is it a supply run? Is it a solo training run? But when Goro swallows his pride and asks Sakamoto, he looks as confused as Goro. "Nah, man, you must have seen wrong," Sakamoto says. "He's the one who told us not to go in alone, so..."

But even then, Sakamoto sounds unsure.

Well, nothing risked, nothing gained. Goro texts Akira that night:

**_Akechi_** : _Is there a reason why you've been going into Mementos alone?_

But there's no response. It's the only time Akira has ever left him on read.

Fine. Goro isn't getting any answers from sitting around. The next time Akira goes to Mementos alone, Goro goes after him.

He doesn't have to go far. Akira's hunched over by a wall at the turnstile, his jacket off and panting into his own hand, head down, curled over himself like he's wounded. For a horrifying moment, Goro's convinced that Akira's masturbating under the cover of his jacket, but when Akira's legs part his hand is nowhere near his crotch. It must have just been a trick of the light, Goro thinks, that Akira's face is so red, and his breathing so strained and high.

"I knew you were here," Goro says with confidence, but unlike Akira's usual sleek, unflappable cool and effortlessly liquid movements, this Akira struggles to even stand. Goro sees Akira start to slip and fall in slow motion, like watching a drink of water fall off a table, and he dives to catch him before Akira hits the ground hard.

Akira's eyes are dark and furious, brimming with humiliation. Goro bites his lip at the familiar look of wounded pride. "You're not well, I see," Goro concludes, although something in the back of his head tells him that that's not quite right. "There's nothing unusual about that. A winter cold."

That look of shame doesn't leave. Akira still won't meet his eyes, and Akira tries to push his hand away. "There's nothing wrong with taking a sick day," Goro says irritably. "We won't ever succeed against Maruki if we don't take care of our bodies. Come on. We'll get you to your witch doctor, she'll take a look at you..."

Akira's shaking his head. Just slightly, in the tiny movements that Akira tends to make that you have to look closely for so you don't miss, but he's definitely shaking his head. "Joker. Honestly."

"Can you go away?" Akira says harshly.

Goro rears back. "You're collapsed against a wall, flushed red with fever _alone in Mementos_ , and you want me to go away? You're definitely not in your right mind."

Goro pulls Akira up to his feet. Akira's legs buckle instantly and he gasps, hiding his face in his own leather jacket as he shakes. If Goro hadn't known any better, he'd think that Akira was being electrocuted.

"Joker, _what_ is going on?!"

But Akira just shakes his head furiously, hiding his face in his arms.

"Joker. Talk to me," Goro orders. "We can't go on like this. How are you supposed to defeat Maruki and return to reality in this state?"

No response.

"And you're still just trying to hide it? If there's something wrong, go see your doctor friend—go ask your teammates to take care of it—"

"No!" Akira says sharply.

He says it so firmly it even has a hint of the same commanding, magnetic tone he uses to give orders on the battlefield and lead them to a crushing victory, but Goro hasn't ever made a habit of following Akira's orders. "Why not?!"

"They can't see me like this!"

Goro throws up his hands. "Fine! Me, then." But Akira just looks more upset at the suggestion. "Did you think I was lying when I said that I would help you to return to the real world—?"

"I don't want _you_ to see me like this," Akira says quietly.

"Like what?"

Akira looks away. There's a long silence, before Goro realizes that he isn't going to answer at all.

"Joker," Goro says, frustrated.

"There's something a shadow did to me," Akira says without expression. "I... was coming to Mementos to try and remove it. But no matter what I do, it won't come off."

"What is it?"

"I don't know what it is."

"Get Oracle to look at it—"

"I can't have Oracle look at something like this."

Goro opens his mouth, but just then Akira shudders violently and shoves his face into his shoulder. All Goro can see is Akira's fingers fisted in the leather as _something_ wracks his frame. "Don't look!" Akira snaps. His voice comes out breathy.

"Then how am I supposed to help you?!"

Akira doesn't move. He's like a tortured animal, having been played with for too long, just trying to protect his vitals and survive as long as he can.

"Joker. I swear. I can't help you if you don't let me."

Akira makes a tiny noise. Goro's mouth goes a little dry. He tries not to think about how it sounds like something straight out of his own late-night fantasies.

Shakily, Akira unbuttons his pants and Goro nearly chokes. "Joker, _what_...?"

"Don't look at my face," Akira says again, softer.

"I—okay? Are you..."

But Akira doesn't even bother to respond, just starts pushing his pants down with his face firmly buried in his jacket, and Goro falls silent as soon as he sees it: The same parasite from a few years ago, wrapped snugly around Akira's cock from tip to base like a condom.

Akira starts to pull his pants back up, but Goro grabs his hands, even pulls his pants a little further down. "I need to see it if I'm going to help you," Goro says curtly, but Akira doesn't even show any sign of being bothered by it. He only covers his face in his jacket and tries to make no noise.

This is supremely weird, actually, that he promised not to look at Akira's face, so he's left just—staring directly at Akira's dick, for lack of anywhere else to look. It's rounder than Goro would have guessed, from how lean and tall Akira is. It has a nice, fat curve to it, plump even underneath the gooey skin of the parasite.

And Akira is _incredibly_ hard.

Even before his eyes, the parasite moves slightly, massaging Akira like a living fleshlight.

So that would explain why he's so hard, and so... flushed.

Goro swallows wetly. He has to focus.

"When the shadow attacked," Akira's voice mumbles into the jacket, "I'd gotten all the other parasites off... but by the time I—I realized that one of the parasites had... gotten there... I tried to pry it off, and it wouldn't..."

"I had this before," Goro says quietly.

Akira jerks into his jacket. " _What_?"

"Not... _there_ ," Goro says. "On my arm."

"And you got it off—?"

Goro winces. "It doesn't let go. I think it starts to grow into the skin itself. Like... how mold grows into bread."

Even as he talks, before his eyes, the parasite contracts, squeezing and clenching around Akira's cock. Akira's thighs seize and his stomach tightens; Goro determinedly doesn't look at his face when he hears Akira whimper. "Joker?" Goro says urgently, when Akira doesn't respond except for heavy breathing. "...Joker?"

"How do I get it off," Joker gasps between what sounds like gritted teeth.

Akira's legs keep shifting restlessly. His cock isn't huge, but it's thick and taut with how hard he is, and it keeps bobbing against his toned stomach every time he breathes—and Akira is breathing fast, now, in the little pained shallow gasps someone gives when they're close and trying as hard as they can not to cum. How would that even work, cumming like this with the parasite wrapped securely around the head of his cock? Does the parasite feed off it? Is it milking him for his cum? What if the parasite is growing into the slit, too? Can Akira feel it when its roots grows deeper, when it grows thicker around the base—?

"Crow," Joker says, like he's pleading.

Goro tries not to look too obviously like he's coming back to himself. "I, er. I had to cut the skin off."

" _What_?"

"That's why I compared it to mold. If you cut the part with the mold off, you can save the rest of the—"

"That's not how bread works," Joker says, panicked.

"So the metaphor's not perfect! You can cut the mold off cheese and still eat it!"

" _Cheese_?" Akira echoes, in disbelief that Goro is comparing his cock to dairy products.

"All I'm telling you is what I did," Goro snaps. He can't believe he's having a conversation about whether or not you can cut mold off bread while he's staring at his rival's cock encased in a gelatinous parasitic slime. "I skinned my arm, had Loki peel it off, passed out, and healed it."

"And your... your arm is fine...?" Akira's voice is so strained that Goro is shocked that Akira can string coherent words together.

"Yes, honestly, here, look at it if you want—"

Goro peels off his gauntlet and shoves up the sleeves to show it to him, but the second he looks up, Joker hides his face away in the leather jacket. Frustrated, Goro throws the gauntlet down, pulls out a bag of medical supplies. "It works, alright? Just let me..."

Akira's back arches up off the floor. With his face hidden in the jacket, Goro only gets the barest hint of a moan, but Goro has a front-row view of the way his cock jerks against his own hip, the way the balls contract as he cums directly into the parasite. The slime squirms gently around Akira's skin as it milks him through it, hungrily sucking down every drop.

And then it keeps going, until Akira's chest is almost hyperventilating with the strain of trying not to cry out and his knuckles are white and shaking in the folds of his jacket. "Akira?!" Goro says, like that'll do anything, like Goro doesn't know exactly what's happening, but the instant Goro touches his skin— _hot_ to the touch, fever-hot and slick with sweat—Akira almost screams into his jacket and cums again from the overstimulation.

The jacket slides away, revealing his bare neck. Sweat slides down Akira's straining tendons and clenched jaw. His biceps shake with the strain of digging his fingers into the leather.

Goro can feel his own tongue in his mouth, like it's somehow too big. Akira's nipples are so hard underneath his vest that he can see them through the fabric. Goro doesn't even realizing he's licking his own lips until Akira rolls over onto his side, curled around himself in misery, and somehow that just makes Goro harder.

Akira's voice is raw and small. "Get it off."

"It'll hurt," Goro says immediately.

"Do it," Akira says again.

Goro takes a deep breath. Steels himself.

"Bite down on something," Goro orders. With Akira's face hidden in his jacket, Goro can't do anything to make sure he actually has something in his mouth, but Goro is going to assume that Akira isn't an idiot and will at least take the time to get some of his own leather jacket between his teeth. "Deep breath."

Slowly, with more precision than Goro's ever had about anything in his life, Goro slides the tip of Joker's dagger around the base, cutting a line around the area with the parasite. Akira lets out a noise like a wail. His hips keep trying to buck up against Goro's thighs, and even as Goro pins him down with his hand, Goro prays that Akira can't feel his emerging hard-on, because fuck if it's not unappropriated to be getting _off_ on cutting the skin off someone's dick.

He tries not to think about it. He focuses on completing the incision and getting his fingernails under the skin. Akira sounds like he's hyperventilating as best as he can into his own jacket. As soon as Goro digs into the fat, Goro swears under his breath. He'd meant to peel off only the foreskin, but he cut too deep. He's going to peel off the entire damn skin.

"What?" Akira asks, sounding panicked around the leather gag. "Wh-What happened?"

"Nothing," Goro says quickly.

"Crow, I-I swear to god—"

"Just relax," Goro orders. "I know what I'm doing."

He does not, but he at least did this once before, which is one more time than Akira has. And, in theory, the healing bead will replace all the skin anyway; the most important part is getting the parasite off before it gets its grimy little roots into Akira's body any more than it already has.

Like he's pulling the peel off a banana, Goro lifts the skin from the base of Akira's cock and drags it away. Akira shoves his face into the leather jacket. Surprisingly no sound comes out, but his body vibrates like a piano wire with the effort of keeping himself together.

Goro gets about a quarter of the way up at an achingly, agonizingly slow pace before Akira snaps. "Don't be gentle!" Akira cries, the words sounding wrenched out of him. "Just—just pull it off, just get it over with—!"

"Shut up," Goro snaps.

"Just—just rip it off—"

"I'll hurt you," Goro barks.

"Please just get it off, please just rip it o-off f-fast—"

But if Goro damaged Akira permanently, he doesn't know what he'd do. He doesn't think that healing beads can replace entire limbs; he's only ever seen it replace surface wounds, cuts and scrapes, and knit together puncture wounds like stabs or claw marks. Replacing an entire body part isn't something that Goro's willing to test with Akira's fucking _dick_ on the line.

He pulls it off achingly slowly, trying to keep as much of the muscle underneath intact, taking Joker's own dagger tip to separate the fat. Fuck, he didn't even ever do a frog dissection in school; his school had banned it because it'd been too traumatizing for students. Blood blooms from the new exposed skin in pinpricks, blossoming into a thin sheen of blood all across the newly-exposed flesh of Akira's cock. Inch by inch, Akira's raw muscle comes free, weeping red the entire way.

The skin slips over the head. Thank god the skin of the head doesn't come away entirely, just a little strip of skin manages to cling before Goro cuts it away, but even that makes Akira's body seize, one arm scrabbling along the floor in desperation for anything to hold onto. Underneath his jacket, a thin line of drool slides down his jaw, and even as Goro drops the infected skin away where it can't touch anyone or anything else, that's what Goro can't stop watching.

Akira's cock is smaller, now, without the skin on, and it's bleeding profusely, hard and swollen against his stomach, a fact that Goro had been determinedly not thinking about until the second Akira starts to buck up and grind into the open air.

"Joker," Goro says quietly. His voice is barely above a whisper.

Akira sounds like he's nearly sobbing into his jacket, now, his hips twisting against Goro's. "I'm," Akira gasps. "I need..."

Goro's hand hovers over Akira's slim hips. He can't stop staring at just _how_ hard Akira is; even with all the blood lost and pooling into his belly button, Akira's erection just gets stronger. "I need it," Akira's tiny voice begs. "Please, fuck, I'm so close... I'm..."

And if Goro were a good person, he'd wait for Akira to get back in his right mind, for Akira's erection to go down, for all the adrenaline and hormones to fade away—for at least Akira's dick to heal and _have fucking skin again_ —but instead Goro is not a good person and he is certainly also not in his right mind, which must be the explanation for why Goro doesn't even think before he leans down and presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the underside of Akira's bloody cock. It doesn't taste anything like any dick he's ever sucked before; it tastes like straight blood and the stench of Akira's cold sweat and fear, like he's kissing a naked iron blade.

Akira screams. Goro laves along the base of his cock like he'd eat someone out, trying to drink down as much of the bleeding skin as he can while Akira's shrieks turn to sobs, turn to "Goro _please_ , Goro—!" and Goro can lose himself in the way Akira's legs tense around his head and his body thrashes like Goro's tongue is a live wire to his nerves. It must feel just like—no, worse than if Goro had tongued an open wound in Akira's chest. It's only when his words turned garbled and wet that Goro realizes he must be actually sobbing, and Goro sits up, mesmerized, by the sight of the great Phantom Thief Akira Kurusu with tears streaming down his face and his mouth slack, drooling stupidly on himself from pain and pleasure.

"It hurts," Akira babbles, "it hurts... don't stop, Goro, please—"

Goro can't help but peel his head up from the ground and kiss him openmouthed, Goro's bloody face against Akira's, Akira sucking on Goro's tongue like he's never tasted anything better than his own blood and fluids. God, he's _perfect_ , how Goro can taste his whimpers of pain, and still Akira spreads his legs wider, lets Goro shove his knees apart until his legs _must_ hurt. When Goro breaks away to examine Akira's dick, it's freely weeping blood and precum all over his stomach, pooling and overflowing down his sides to the floor. Goro's held out long enough. He leans down and sucks Akira's length down as far back as he can go.

Akira's cum floods his mouth instantly, but Goro isn't bothered. He'll make Akira come until he's coming dry, he decides, and bobs his head over the sensitive flesh. Akira is shouting again, but distantly, as Goro's world narrows down to the length of cock on his tongue, the overpowering taste and smell of blood, Akira's cum sticking to the back of his throat. The skin is ragged, even, from where Goro pulled the flesh away, and smaller now that Goro peeled off the outer layer; it's nothing like the smooth velvet of a normal cock. He's almost regretful that he isn't able to taste Akira's skin. Akira's legs thrash until Goro pins them flat to the ground at his sides, thighs open to not get in his way, and he decides that maybe it's better this way, being able to taste the raw flesh underneath, the parts of Akira that nobody else will ever put their mouth on. Goro swallows the blood leaking from the raw wound directly into his mouth with reverence.

Akira's long past the point of coherence. It's only a matter of time before his spasms die off, too exhausted to even writhe. When Goro looks up one last time, the leather jacket is in a puddle by Akira's head and Akira's eyes are glazed over with something that looks like adoration as he looks back at Goro's mouth wrapped around his cock, and then his eyes flutter shut one last time as he finally cums dry in Goro's mouth. Goro works him through it the whole time, sucking as dutifully as the parasite had, until there's nothing left to wring out of him and Goro drops his limp cock back onto Akira's stomach, thoroughly cleaned of cum and spit and blood.

Goro's erection is painful against his thigh. His open mouth drips blood and spittle as he squeezes his fists shut on his thighs, willing himself not to touch and jack off over Akira's body and naked dick. Slowly, with great effort, Akira's leg lifts, shaking so badly that Goro has no idea what he's doing until Akira shoves his foot between Goro's legs. Goro's vision almost whites out with the relief of Akira's heel against his balls.

"You too," Akira rasps.

His foot barely has the energy to move against Goro, but Goro doesn't need much anymore; he clings desperately to Akira's boot and his hips move almost on their own, wild and entirely uncontrolled until Goro cums messily still inside his Metaverse outfit. It's only when he sees Akira's wide, grey eyes that he realizes how Goro must have looked, rutting against Akira's foot like a dog, cumming in his pants from the pressure of Akira threatening to crush his cock with his heel.

Akira looks a little frightened, almost, like he's only just beginning to come back down from his adrenaline high and he's realizing what he's just done in the heat of the moment, but also mesmerized by Goro hunched over him, probably looking like a red-faced messy-haired tomato covered in unspeakable fluids. _Don't hide your true face from me_ , Goro thinks incoherently, out of some last vestige of bitterness that Goro had spilled his guts on the engine room floor and Akira had seen all of him but Goro hadn't yet seen everything there was to see about Akira from the inside out, but somewhere in between his brain and his mouth he doesn't manage to say what he means, and instead he holds Akira's eyes as he lifts Akira's boot to his mouth and licks the faint traces of cum along Akira's sole, polishing the leather clean with his tongue where the cum had leaked from Goro's outfit, just to see Akira's eyes blow wide and dark.

For a second, they just stare at each other, not wanting to break the spell. Akira's pants are still open, cock still out and bleeding without skin, his chest bare. Slowly, Goro leans over him. Akira's eyes don't look away for a second.

Goro opens his mouth. Akira's hand immediately covers it. He looks genuinely terrified to break the silence, like if Akira can't hide his face, and has to let Goro see him lying in his own filth and wrecked with pleasure, then at least he wants his silence, to maybe even pretend that this never happened. Hesitantly, Goro reaches for the bead chain for Akira to heal himself, but Akira shakes his head quickly.

 _What do you want?_ Goro thinks furiously. He isn't a mind reader. He isn't good at other people; he's good at being a robot with a series of canned automated responses to make the studio audience laugh at his precocious boyish charm. _What the fuck do you want from me?_ And desperately: _How do I not fuck this up?_

Akira Kurusu, the only boy who ever mattered, biting his bottom lip underneath Goro, looking split open and raw like a living, breathing wound, holding himself open for Goro if he just isn't stupid enough to fuck it up. Maybe the only person who ever mattered after all. Goro isn't sure if he'll ever do anything important ever again with his death coming around the corner on February 3rd—not as important or precious as Akira's nervous, silent plea for something Goro doesn't understand.

Weakly, without looking away or saying a word, Akira pulls the leather jacket up over Goro's head. The world goes a little darker. In the half shadows, time can stretch long past February 3rd; here, it's just the two of them. Hidden safely where nobody can see, Akira kisses Goro again, and again, and again, until Goro's ears ring with the sound of Akira's lips around his tongue, and the soft breaths of Akira's moans without restraint.

**Author's Note:**

> i liked the parasites in "degrees of lewdity"
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/mopgoro)


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